


stars are falling (all for us)

by LittleMissRainbow



Series: can't color inside the lines [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Depression, Existentialism, Guardian Angel AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, help these kids, who tf knows how this is gonna end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissRainbow/pseuds/LittleMissRainbow
Summary: What does it mean to be alive?In which Shouyou is disillusioned, Tobio is a ghost, and both of them wonder about the meaning of existence and being alive.





	stars are falling (all for us)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for everything.
> 
> ((Any and all mistakes or typos are all my fault and will probably only be fully corrected once I've finished the story.))
> 
> Chapter title comes from Sia's Alive.

He wondered how it felt like to be alive.

Hinata Shouyou looked at his hands, faintly calloused due to past repeated use, still disregarded and unwanted—a reminder that he’s not good enough. That he will never be good enough.

He remembered that day of long ago—of the feeling of having his breath taken away, of being awed beyond belief; the first rush of passion he’s ever felt in his life. The sight of a boy draped in black and orange, conquering the court like gravity was nothing but a mere illusion, like towering walls weren’t guarding the other side—like he was untouchable, invincible. He flew high, way up high—his wings spread wide like the crows they were named after.

He flew so high, Hinata couldn’t hope to reach him at all.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying—because Hinata tried. He tried so hard. For three years, he practiced as much as he could. He joined whatever volleyball team he could, leaving himself to get ridiculed by his friends for joining the female volleyball club. He asked people to toss to him, even though they didn’t really know how. He convinced his friends to help him, somehow managing to talk them into playing volleyball with him.

But, in the end, it was fruitless. He finally got his chance to stand on the court, but he blew it. His first official game ever, and he lost. 

_The sound of the ball hitting his palm._

_The rush of adrenaline as he challenged the blockers._

_The feeling of disappointment when the ball landed on their side._

_“Why are you trying so hard?”_

_Izumin tossed, gasping in horror as he did so. A back-hand toss? Clearly, there was an error. But he didn’t mind; a toss is still a toss, after all._

_He ran after it and he jumped; for a while, his vision was clear—he could see the other side. He was sure he was going to get this one._

_He didn’t._

_“What have you been doing these past three years?”_

All his hard work turned into nothing. Everything was useless.

And just like that, Hinata’s dream of becoming the next “Little Giant” ceased to exist. Broken beyond repair, he doubted he would ever get rid of the feeling of regret, helplessness, of the failure that’s begun to manifest in his being, swirling like a dark vortex that’s gradually swallowing him alive.

Kouji and Izumi tried to cheer him up, saying that there’s always a next time, but Hinata knew deep in his heart that there’s none. Still, he smiled and nodded, laughing at the snot-ridden faces of his friends. It was hollow, but somehow they bought it. That was good; they’re better off not knowing how wretched he felt inside.

He didn’t go to Karasuno High School like said before. Why’d he bother? His dream was meaningless now. It was nothing but a bleak memory that he’d never forget, a nightmare that he’d never wake from. It would only remind him of the things he’s lost and the things he’ll never have. 

“I have to look after Natsu now, especially since she’s growing up so fast,” he said instead, letting out a sheepish laugh at his friends’ confusion. “I gotta help out my mom, ‘yanno?” It was clear that they didn’t buy it entirely, but they didn’t pry. Hinata couldn’t say he felt exactly happy about that.

Instead, he chose to go to a high school near his home. A school that focused on academic excellence rather than extra-curriculars. A school that has no volleyball club, nor any affiliations with the sport.

At least there, he could hope to be distracted by the monotony of schoolwork, nothing about volleyball whatsoever. His classmates didn’t talk about it as well. They only talked of homework and nothing else, and he was fine with that.

Hinata told himself he was happy, even though his chest felt stone cold.

He wondered how it felt like to be alive.

Because Shouyou could no longer remember how.

 

* * *

 

He wondered how it felt like to be alive.

Kageyama Tobio wrinkled his brows in thought, concentrating so hard that the dogs in the neighborhood ran in fright. Their owners looked at them in concern, wondering why they suddenly just yelped and cowered when nothing seemed to be amiss. The cool breeze assaulted them into shivers and they herded themselves back into their homes.

He continued to pace, sidestepping branches and rocks scattered on the pavement like it even mattered. Surely, it hasn’t been that long for him to forget.

Then again, he could barely remember anything. After all, it took him awhile to remember where he was, let alone his own name.

All he knew for sure was that he was dead. 

As hard as it were for him to believe, he actually was dead.

How it happened, why it happened—it played on his mind like a worn-out VHS on repeat. On black-and-white, on Technicolor—it didn’t matter. It changed accordingly, though to what, he didn’t know. A never-ending cycle of crashes and screams and blood splattered on the ground like a D-grade horror movie.

However, Kageyama didn’t have a choice. He was dead, and his brain liked reminding him of just that, as if he’d ever forget.

All his life, he thought death was supposed to be beautiful, something significant and symbolic. After all, you managed to get through life—you deserved a good death. Then you go to somewhere else, and spend the whole of eternity sleeping. 

Instead, what he got was a fragmented memory and a restless soul walking around and scaring the neighborhood pets.

He wondered how it felt like to be alive.

Because Tobio would never get the chance to feel that way again.


End file.
